In the middle of the night, I screamed her name.
In the middle of the nightmare...

Windchill is howling in my veins,
as on the windows of these trains...

The respite is shortening
like my hair in the barber shop...

Effulgence
spawns on the transparent pons...

It seems all these strangers know me.
Maybe this is only a dream...

Did you know
that the whole world...

I am in awe of the translation of your eyes
from forgotten languages of dreams...

The bright blade of truth
I draw from the sword sheath of...

When you hide behind
the beauty of your dear masks...

How easy is to
conceal our shames behind...

I am in awe of the translation of your eyes,
from the forgotten languages of dreams...

In the even scales
of fangs there are no mercy...